


The LOGAndroid

by thatmountainhermit



Category: Thomas Sanders
Genre: Actor Roman, Alternate Universe - Robots & Androids, Android Logan, Descriptions of Pain, Gen, Mechanic Virgil, Programmer Patton, tags will be added with the story
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-29
Updated: 2018-01-26
Packaged: 2019-01-17 01:02:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12354177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatmountainhermit/pseuds/thatmountainhermit
Summary: The Mark 7 Layered Operation Genuine Android is the most advanced yet, both in programming, ability, and human-like aesthetics. When the LOGAndroid, service number S4N-D3R5 gets damaged and thrown away, that's when life starts for the android. But the humans that save S4N-D3R5 are strange. How are the retired programmer, mechanical master, and dramatic but mildly famous actor all linked?And why does this LOGAndroid's thoughts keep returning to the actor?





	1. Childhood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What Mark 7 LOGAndroid, service number S4N-D3R5 remembers of his early… “life.”

“Can you hear me?” White and chrome and something holding him his ears were ringing everything was so loud.

“Yes. ” It came from him. Speaking.

“What is your model and service number?”

The words came out immediately, natural instinct. “Mark 7 LOGAndroid. Service number S4N-D3R5.”

“Full systems check.”

Jerk. Jerk. His head turned. Fingers wiggled. He stood up. Walked. Sat down. A run of words spilled out of his mouth. English. French. Spanish. Russian. Chinese. Arabic.

“Looks like everything is in order. Off to sleep you go.” _What?_

Black.

“And… it’s booting up. Look at it go. The Mark 7 Layered Operation Geniune Android unit is our most advanced yet, with fully simulated human capabilities and expressions…” A gentle tap to his cheek. “His eyes flew open. Lights. Further, darkness. No, not darkness. People. Lots and lots of people. One next to him. “Say hello, LOGAndroid.”

“Hello.” He said quietly, staring ahead. He looked down. He was in a brown - no, beige - pants. Black shirt. Blue necktie. Much like the man next to him.

“The Mark 7 is also capable of speaking all 6 United Nation languages, with the option of loading more. This includes all cultural customs. Talk to me in French, LOGAndroid. And give us a smile.” The man had moved away, but was looking at him expectantly.

He smiled brightly. “Je suis L-O-G-Androïde, votre assistant personnel pour tout que vous faites.”

“They’re all fully capable of physical activity, and can be trained for any task. Including bodyguarding, laboratory assistance, physical labour. If humans can do it, so can our Mark 7 LOGAndroid.” The hand was back on his shoulder. “Turn around.”

He did so. Something jumped in his circuits, a small piece of black. A blip.

“And to turn it off, it’s as easy as flicking a switch.”

Black. Repeat the speech, the demonstration. Black again.

They didn’t shut him down. This time, he could hear them. His eyes were open, too. He was asleep, in a way, feeling them touching him but unable to touch back. Unable to react. To fight back.

An up-close-and-personal with the wonder robot. They marvelled at his lifelike skin, the way he was warm to the touch, the synthetic hair on his head. Hands wandered over his body, his arms. A particularly inebriated woman pressed against him, her thigh between his own, greasy lipstick smudging on polymer skin. The strong mix of esters - her perfume - registered in his olfactory sensors. They made his circuits blink out for a moment. Long enough for her to be carried away.

More moving. More showing off. He was plugged in to charge, taken off, plugged in, taken off.

He caught snatches, here and there. Conversations, interactions. Emotions. Anger. Sadness. Happiness. Love, love, _love it kept coming back to love._

Being moved from the stage, “I’d do anything just to see her smile, honestly.”

A laugh. “You’re so whipped.”

“I’m in love.”

Fear. “Shit, shit, shitshitshi-” Falling.

A firing of circuits a stopisthiswhat _painfeltlike **black**._

.”How the hell did you get a Mark 7 LOGAndroid? They cost more than our annual income combined.” Almost monotone, just above him. Too close. Far too close. Something was poking at his stomach. Something was missing.

“I found him on Parker Street, next to a dumpster. I think he was dropped, and the original owner just abandoned him because of all the damage. And then, of course, there’s his arm. Poor thing” Softer. Sweeter. A gentle, warm hand to his arm. What about his arm? Where was his a-a-a-

The first voice sighed, breaking Logan’s thoughts. “You really want me to fix i-”

“Him.” The other man interrupted.

The silence was stifling for a moment. “You’ve already named him, haven’t you?” Logan recognised that tone, vaguely. An almost fondness.

A soft chuckle. “His name is Logan!” There was something… childlike, about this voice.

“LOGAndroid… LOGAn. Logan. Really, Patton?” A finger trailed along his jaw, tipping his head back. “Let’s see if it’s responsive, or if you wasted your time. Wake up, sleepyhead.” A gentle tap to his cheek. He opened his eyes. Something was wrong. Nothing looked right. The face above him was blurry.

“Oh wow, look at his eyes! They look just like yours!” A blob of brown, dark on top, lighter further down.

“They take a bunch of people’s faces and merge them together to create the facial model.” The monotone voice explained, and a paler blob seemed to hang over him. “Diagnostics report.” He tried to respond, opening his mouth. But only sound came out. No language. English? No. Chinese? Another no. None of the languages were working, just a middle-toned drone of sound. He tried his arms. Jerk. Jerk. Jerk. Nothing. What was wrong with him? “Cancel report!” He snapped his mouth shut, the noise still ringing, even in his own ears.

“Standby mode.” Something cold seemed to rush through him, but he closed his eyes once more. Something cold, hard tapped lightly against his arm. “His wiring is definitely out of place. It’ll take time to repair him.”

“Can you fix his speaking first, Virge?” A quiet excitement from the second man, from… Patton. A squeeze to his arm again.

“Yeah. I will. I know you like talking to them while I work.” Virge chuckled, the fondness still clear in his voice. “I need to shut him down so I can take a better look at his eyes.”

“Okay!” Something pressed against his forehead, warm and soft. A flash of black, circuit overload, and then he was back. “Goodnight, Logan. Sleep well.”

Somehow, the black didn’t seem to swallow him alive this time.


	2. Limbs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are fixed. Limbs are added. A new entity enters the LOGAndroid's life.

A blip of blue. Of red. Green and yellow and then he was in a hall and there were humans, so many humans, he was sure of it, all staring at him and the man that was like him but unlike him and his eyes were missing and-

“Wake up!” Blurs, again. Only in one eye, though. Black in the other. “Wanna tell me why you were jerking?”

He opened his mouth. “I…” Speaking functional. “I was jerking?”

“Yeah. You were probably having a nightmare. Well, the android equivalent. Corrupt data, probably.” It was the deadpan man again, Virge. The other one, Patton, hadn’t visited yet, not since that first time. “They'll settle. You have a few crossed wires that mildly disrupted your standby protocols.” Virge moved closer. “This is going to hurt.”

“Can't you turn me off?” Pain was disruptive, if that was the label for the circuit-firing feeling.

“I’m just putting your eye back. I'm not taking your remaining arm off.” The monotone become indignant. “Hold still.”

Orders were processed, and his head froze. Then that firing of circuits, that…  _ pain _ again. Not as bad. Just in his eye. Localised. 

Two fields of blurry vision merged and became one. Then Virge placed something on his face, and it wasn't so blurry anymore “Your visual processing units were squashed in whatever happened to you, essentially giving you myopia. Congrats, you're the first android with a sight problem.” Glasses, he realised. The human Virge gave him glasses. 

“Where is the human Patton?” A jolt went through his processors. That was not his first priority. Yet, it was his first question.

“At work. He’ll be back in two hours, ten minutes.” Virge raised an eyebrow at Logan, leaning over his face. “Question for a question. What's your name?”

The words came automatically. The programmed response had been set as, “Colloquial name has not yet been set. Service number for this Mark 7 Layered Operation Genuine Android is S4N-D3R5.”

Virge’s nose scrunched up as he moved away, out of sight. Sounds of a slight metal squeak reached his aural processors, and he felt the warmth of a presence near his leg.  “Set colloquial premier name as Logan,” Virge muttered.

“Colloquial premier name set. Family name of owner?”

After a moment of deliberation, Virge spoke, voice slow and deliberate, his tone dry and amused. “Sanders. Your last name can be Sanders.”

“Colloquial name set as Logan Sanders. Confirm?” Logan’s head tilted ever so slightly.

“Confirm.” Logan blinked as the set operation lessened its hold on him, letting the spontaneous processing take over once more. “Welcome to humanity, Logan Sanders. I'm Virgil Gates.” Virge - Virgil - tapped something thin against his leg. “You can sit up. The only non functional part of you now is your missing arm.”

Logan sat up slowly, his processors alerting themselves to the missing limb, but barely adjusting to make up for it. A snort came from Virgil, but Logan focused himself on sitting up. “Is that for me?” There was an arm in Virgil’s hand. Not the standard arm for his model, Logan knew, but it appeared that it would work as a replacement. 

“No, it’s for the Queen of England,” Virgil replied absently, his focus on an errant wire. Once put back in its place, he gave Logan a strange look. “Of course it’s for you. There aren’t many robots with missing limbs. Or humans, these days.”

Logan gave a short, sharp nod, watching Virgil fiddle with the wires. “Is Patton to be my new owner?” Virgil’s laugh was loud and abrupt, and Logan’s processors fired abruptly, jerking him away from the sound. “What?”

Virgil shook his head, a wry smile turned to Logan as he grabbed a screwdriver. “I’m pretty sure Patton would cry at the thought of slavery. Even robotic slavery.” He paused, and quietly, “Especially robot slavery.”

“To serve is my primary function.” Another set operation, and a part of his programming buzzed as it took over. It felt like the sound of a thousand bees, swarming his memory as it pressed the spontaneous operation down. 

Virgil was watching him intently, and Logan became sure he had done something strange again. “Sure it is,” he said softly, screwing the last, tiny screw into the panel of the arm. “Alright, your new arm is ready to get plugged in. Are you ready, Logan?”

“Yes.” No.

Heat, that’s what it felt like, like his wires were on fire and his socket was the source, his vision blinking black- colour- black- _ colourblack  _ \- colour.

_ New software installation in progress _ .

“You really need to work on the screaming. You could have burst my eardrums.” Virgil poked his pinky finger into his ear, turning it a little. “That would have been very unpleasant.”

_ Software installation complete. Assessing… _

His shoulder, his elbow, wrist, fingers. One after the other, moving to just the edge of human-like range. “Thank you,” Logan said quietly, inspecting his new arm. It was lightweight. Likely titanium, he supposed, from the overall quality of the arm. the hardware inside. One wouldn’t make such a high quality piece of machinery without using high quality materials to keep it going. 

“Patton asked me to,” Virgil replied, shrugging off the customary thanks. “And by the way, you don’t have to worry about making up an excuse for the arm. Most people with a lost limb have replacements like yours.”

“I see.” Not something that Logan had been worrying about, but handy nonetheless, he supposed. 

“Virge!” Logan’s head snapped to the doorway. He didn’t recognise that voice to be Patton’s. “Virge, you  _ asshole _ , did you program my foot to spin backwards at random?”

Virgil’s grin was almost mischievous, and he gave Logan a conspiratorial wink. “Roman, old friend! Why would I do that?” He turned to the doorway, moving some of his tools back to their rightfully designated bench. “We’re friends, after all.”

“That wouldn’t stop you or Pat-” The human that Logan assumed to be Roman stopped, seeing him on the bench. Logan noted that he was not wearing a shirt, which plausibly explained Roman’s strange stare. The human’s hair was blond and messy - possibly windswept. Paired with a red face and red shirt under a leather jacket. And, yes, a quick glance to Roman’s feet reveal that one was in a position normally anatomically impossible for a human. “You have another customer.”

“Nah, that’s Logan. Patton’s newest android friend.” Virgil turned and nodded his head towards Roman, his eyes locked on Logan’s. “Say hi, Logan!”

He could feel it kicking in again, even though he gave Roman a small wave. The programming, taking Virgil’s words as an order, readying Logan to follow. A smile, wide and friendly, plastered itself onto his face.

“Hi, Logan.” The programming responded. 

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on tumblr at [princeyandanxiety](http://princeyandanxiety.tumblr.com)!


End file.
